Going Home
by jules1013
Summary: Dean's pov as he and Sam drive to Lawrence. Set just before S01 E09 Home. Warnings: Wincest


"We have to go back."

Saying those words, I know it couldn't be easy for him. Who in their right mind would want to go back? But his determination is overshadowing his fear. Great, all I need is Stubborn Sam with his headstrong vendettas. Hell, I even let him drive. I can't stand to do it. I may be breaking my promise to myself by going home, but I'll be damned if I'm going to be the one to take us back.

I was just starting to enjoy myself too. We were getting comfortable with each other; we were becoming a family again. I mean, it'll never be perfect between us, but it was beginning to become less awkward. He even let my inappropriate comments pass by without acknowledgment, you know, when I became too comfortable, too stupid, to let them slip. I thought it would be different now, that it would be enough just to be brothers again. Back then I'd wanted more, but with the distance and years between us, I'm surprised we've gotten this far. I feel like such an asshole when I'm drunk enough to say too much, but it's okay. Like I said, we're becoming brothers again and he's generous enough to overlook my weakness. Things are at their most perfect when we forget who we are and where we came from--when we both pretend we don't know all the secrets that surround us and just live in the moment. Driving to Black Sabbath, having a beer, just being, you know? No ghosts, no parents, no screwed-up childhoods.

But now we're racing down this abandoned highway, with no Ozzy. I see the determination in his face, it's all with him now--Mom, Dad, Jessica. I just want him to get outside of that head of his for a little while--I just want him to have some peace for a moment.

"Do you want me to drive?"

"I thought you were loathe to actively bring us home?" His voice cracks from not-speaking all night.

"Yeah, that may be so, but I also don't want to die on the way there because someone has tired eyes and a weary mind."

I can't even register my shock as the car abruptly swerves onto the unlevel ground beside the highway.

"Dude, my car! Be careful!"

"You're right. Just let me rest here for a few moments." His voice is too calm.

He kills the lights and turns off the engine. Without even looking at me, he leans his head back and closes his eyes. He's voluntarily stopping on his mission home--to sleep? What the fuck?

I turn over and try to catch a few winks myself, but just as I'm nodding off, I hear him. A nightmare again. Damn, he looks vulnerable, shaking and sweating. I try to shake him awake, and he pops up, hands at my shoulders, pinning me to my seat.

"Sam! Sam, it's me. It's your brother," I muster. "I won't hurt you, I won't hurt you...it's me."

His face is pained and conflicted--he looks almost crazed. His grip hasn't loosened, and I can tell by the look in his eye that he's making a decision. One hand releases me roughly, and seeks the button of my jeans. Jesus! What is this? He doesn't try to kiss me, but his face is impossibly close to mine. I finally break eye contact as he grabs me. My body certainly is reacting, but I'm too stunned to enjoy what I thought I always wanted. His hands are everywhere, and I can hear his grunts in my ear, can feel his breath on my neck. He grinds against me roughly, impatient with my paralyzed hands. It's not until I come that I truly feel him hard against me. He pulls my hands toward him and begins thrusting into them. Jesus, Jesus...

He comes quickly and hard, off me and out the door before I can even try to memorize that expression on his face. I can hear him nearby, but I won't look out the window. I keep my eyes down and forward, clean myself off, and wait for what's to come.

After what seems forever, he gets back in the car. We don't look at each other, but I sense his resolve and composure--his mask is back on. Without a word, he starts the engine and pulls back onto the highway. I understand his silence. It means we won't act any differently, won't ever speak of this. We'll continue to patch our awkward family without getting too close. We'll try to forget all the secrets that surround us and try to live in the moment. And we will--until this happens again. And when it happens too often, we'll try to ignore the distance it puts between us. We'll try to ignore that it's becoming one of the biggest secrets surrounding us. We'll try to ignore that we'll never be a family again.

Fuck.

You know, they say you can't ever really go home again.


End file.
